


Then act like you mean it

by Sneery69



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Convention, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneery69/pseuds/Sneery69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, this may well be Jensen’s opinion…It’s not exactly mine.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then act like you mean it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dean-Bangs-Cas-In-The-Impala (Maknatuna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maknatuna/gifts).



> Okay, yes, I know, I keep posting smutty one shots instead of writing w.i.l.l. I'm sorry.
> 
> I wanted to explore Misha's POV, for once, so here we go. Timeline should be rather obvious.

The crowd is even bigger than usual, cheering, whistling, waving like it isn’t at least one thousand degrees in the hall; like this isn’t the seventh hour they’re all doing this. Misha marvels for a moment – their enthusiasm is for him, he knows, because right now, he’s the only one on the stage. He loves it, sometimes to the point where he wants to be a part of them instead of being their idol, because being anyone’s idol is as exhausting as it is exhilarating. 

One fan with green hair and big glasses catches Misha’s eye in the front row. She looks extremely nervous, but she’s got her hand raised. Her friend who seems to cosplay Lucifer keeps petting her shoulder, and Misha thinks it’s cute.  
With a big smile, he points to her and the crowd stops shouting and cheering when the mic is being handed over. She’s blushing hard, but doesn’t hesitate to grab it.

“Hey. What’s your name?”

“I’m Andrea. I’ve got a question, but it might be considered inappropriate.”

‘Great’, Misha thinks, ‘it’s always the innocent looking one’s that will get me into trouble in the end.‘ Jeff throws him a meaningful look from the corner of the stage, but Misha subtly shakes his head.

“Go on. But please remember that there’re children with us.”

Andrea blushes even further, and for a moment Misha hopes that she’ll give up. No such luck.

“Right. Um. I had this prepared but…um. So. Do you … I mean, what do you think, where does the tension between Dean and Castiel come from? Because Jensen…he said that you don’t play it that way, but…come on.”

Andrea manages to make her last words sound reproachful, and Misha wishes he could agree with her openly. He hates that he has to dance around this. He hates that fans are bullied for seeing something that they’re clearly supposed to see. He hates that Jensen said it like that, and left it for him to clean up. 

“Well, this may well be Jensen’s opinion…It’s not exactly mine.” Most of the hall erupts into cheers at that, but Misha notes that there’s a big portion in the back that keeps very quiet, and another one even further back and to the right that is booing him. ‘This will never be over. And it gets worse every year.’

“You see, when we started building the relationship between Dean and Castiel, there were a lot of pretty intimate scenes, scenes that were only between these two. It’s… not easy, playing these, for various reasons.” In a split second, Misha decides to be petty. He’s furious, the cold kind that always surprises him with its painful edge because he so rarely feels it anymore. There was a time when it had been a daily occurrence, back when he was the chubby queer kid that used to blush as soon as he was spoken to. 

See, that’s the other hindrance. When it comes, it throws him back in time. Misha fishes for what he was about to say.

“…I mean, Jensen and I didn’t really know each other, and we just did what felt right, I guess, or well, that’s how _I_ played it. There was a limited amount of things I could draw my acting clues from, so I just went with it. (You’re babbling, Collins, just go in for the kill.) And let me tell you, folks, it’s not exactly easy to not be attracted to Jensen Ackles. So I guess if he didn’t do it, it must have been me who played it like that.”

Through the insane noise that follows his statement, Misha wonders what the silent crowd back there is thinking. Probably that it had been pretty obviously Jensen acting up the gay. Well, that’s what Misha was getting back then, at least. Oh, and he might just have done something very, very stupid.

“Okay folks, we don’t want to bring down the roof.” 

Misha manages to pick out the right people after that, and thankfully, no more questions concerning his personal feelings on the Dean and Cas relationship pop up. He wonders if the managers are already planning Castiel’s ultimate demise up there. 

He loses time a bit answering questions and talking about his childhood and Vicky and West, and when Jared interrupts him instead of Jensen, he can’t really say that he’s surprised. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised.

Jared teases him for a bit, and they end up in a pile on the floor, tickle-fighting. The crowd has a field-day with it, and even Misha forgets for a moment the enormity of what he has done.

“He’s backstage, in one of the last dressing cabins. You might wanna talk to him”, Jared whispers while mercilessly poking his ribs. Misha grunts an affirmative, and they slowly get up to answer some last minute questions.

When they finally get fake-dispersed by Osric and Ty, Misha gulps down an entire bottle of water and eats a sandwich, avoiding everyone in the process, and finally admits that he better tackles this right away.

He starts looking for Jensen in the changing rooms, and finds him in the very last one, sitting on the floor. He doesn’t react to Misha closing the door behind him. ‘At least he switched the lights on’. Misha thinks, ‘or I’d be seriously worried.’

Misha waits, and after some minutes, without looking up, Jensen stands. He walks up at him, head carefully down, and Misha almost understands too late that he’s about to make a pass at the door.

“No, I don’t think so.” Misha grabs Jensen’s forearm and hauls him back. When Jensen finally lifts his eyes, there’s something that Misha has never seen before, and he feels almost scared.

“What did you think you were doing?” Jensen hisses, and his eyes are blazing with fury. Misha feels himself respond in kind.

“What I thought _I_ was doing? Jensen, you told a huge subset of fans who’re already being bullied that they were deluded for seeing something between u…between Castiel and Dean! What the fuck were _you_ thinking?”

Jensen looks properly taken aback. “I…what? Bullied?”

Misha pushes him a bit, and Jensen at last takes a step back. “Yes, Jensen, bullied. Our fans are bullying each other, and I don’t say we’re responsible for it, but you certainly didn’t make it easier by outright _lying_.”

Jensen sputters and takes two big steps forward again, pushing right into Misha’s personal space. It would be ironic under different circumstances.

“I wasn’t lying, dammit! I’m not…It’s nothing like that between…Dean and Castiel.”

Misha can’t help it – he snorts. He’s dimly aware that his back is in direct contact with the door by now, but he doesn’t really worry about it.  
“Speak for yourself! The Castiel that I play is in love with Dean.” 

Jensen looks like he’s been smacked in the face for a moment, but he recovers quickly. There’s something passing over his features that Misha can only describe as cautiously unsure. “Whatever. That’s not even…What you said. About being attracted to me. That was a joke, right? To make it up to them?”

There it was, the perfect out. Misha could take it, or Misha could be an idiot. It isn’t even really a choice.

“No. It was not a joke. When I first met you, my exact thoughts were _Hot damn, this is gonna be torture_. “ When Jensen recoils at that, expression shocked and hands half raised in front of him, Misha feels his mouth pull into a sneer. “What, are you about to freak out? You might want to consider beating me up. Where you come from, that’s what you do with faggots such as me, right?”

Jensen looks faintly affronted now, but his expression is such a mix of emotions that Misha can’t really tell for sure. “I…no, gods, Misha, of course n… I mean, what? You’re not a faggot. You’re married to Vicky and you have two kids and…”

Misha wants the anger to go away, but it only seems to push itself further up, churning in his stomach and pushing up through his mouth. “Shut your fucking mouth, Ackles. My sexuality is not for you to define. Let me tell you that I am, and always have been, a huge fucking queer.” Misha distantly takes note of his legs carrying him forward. “Does it scare you, that I find you hot? Does it make your skin crawl that I want to push you down to the floor and bury my face between your legs?”

Jensen finally looks appropriately scared, Misha finds. He should stop now. He doesn’t. “Do you find me disgusting for wanting to kiss you every god damn time you smile at me? Do you think that I don’t hate myself for lo…” Misha makes himself stop, but it’s a close call. Jensen stares at him with eyes big as saucers. There’s not much space left between them, and this time, Jensen is the one crowded against a wall.

“But…I don’t understand, Vicky…” “Oh for god’s sake, I saw her fucking book in your flat, don’t tell me you don’t know about the life we chose for ourselves.”

Jensen does something interesting: he blushes. Misha frowns at him, trying to take a step back, only to find that apparently, Jensen grabbed his flannel shirt at some point and is holding him in place. Misha growls, and when Jensen fails to react accordingly, he lunges. 

They’re kissing before Misha really knows what’s happening, and there’s definitely a very large erection being pressed into his hip, Jensen’s grip hard on his neck and waist, beautiful noises coming from between parted lips. Misha knows he should stop this, but he’s not a saint and he wanted this for too long.

He pushes against Jensen until they’re impossibly close and slips his tongue in with the next breath. Jensen moans loudly, rocking against him like this is something he actually wants.

Misha doesn’t think, goes down on his knees before he has fully opened Jensen’s belt. Jensen’s fingers stay in his hair, and Misha dares to look up for a moment. Jensen’s head is thrown back, his chest heaving with every deep breath he takes. Misha should ask if this is okay. Instead, he rips down Jensen’s underwear and swallows the biggest cock he’s ever had in his mouth straight to the hilt.

Jensen shouts and his knees buckle, but he keeps his balance by putting both his hands around Misha’s head. “Fuck, fuck…oh.” Jensen starts thrusting almost immediately, and Misha doesn’t stop him. This is like a dream come true, and if all he’ll ever get is Jensen fucking into his mouth without any reservations, he’ll gladly take it.

Misha pulls back a bit so that Jensen’s cock isn’t completely down his throat anymore and laps the length of the shaft once, then starts sucking the head, whipping the tip of his tongue in rapid strokes against its underside.

Jensen mewls above him, his legs visibly shaking with effort. “Please, Mish, oh my god, fuck, let me, _please, let me…_ ” 

Misha rests his tongue at the underside of Jensen’s cock and lets him tilt his head backwards to fuck deeply into his mouth again. It feels amazing, how he goes in until Misha’s nose brushes his cropped pubic hair, how Jensen loses all control of his vocal cords as soon as he starts coming down Misha’s throat. “Fuck Mish wanted so bad yes yes fuckfuck _fuck_ ”

Jensen’s legs give out eventually, and Misha makes sure that he makes it down to the floor safely. His eyes are dilated to the point where it looks unhealthy, and Misha hates himself a bit for thinking that he wants to fall asleep to this sight.

“Shit”, Jensen whispers, but doesn’t get up like Misha expected him to. “Shit. Misha, I …”

Misha shuffles over to him, resting his head against the wall. “Yeah. You really fucked up. Please don’t let your gay panic out on me, because I don’t think I can take it.”

Jensen turns his eyes on him, looking pained. “I won’t. Promise. I…thank you.”

Misha laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “My pleasure.” Then he gets up awkwardly, his erection pushing against the zipper of his jeans painfully, and walks out of the room.

___


End file.
